my legs are getting weak chasing after you
by gustin puckerman
Summary: while the famous athlete keeps cutting her with his full ignorance, the adorable nerd keeps stabbing her with his full attention. Blellie, Michellie. Blake,Nellie,Michael. Prompt request.


**My heart beats for Blellie now, I'm afraid. I just, ugh, I can't express my love for these two. I just have the biggest of hope that Nellie is, somehow, will get accepted in Glee or something. Or at least, there will be more interaction between Blake and Nellie in real life. My fourth try- So, this is a prompt. This time, I'm including some (okay, maybe a lot) of Michellie. Please don't blame me- I have full respect for Michellie fans, so I hope this does not offend any of you when I admit truthfully that I am NOT a fan of Michellie, at all. Their awesome, wicked, wonderful friendships? Oh yes. Them, being as mythical, fictional twins somehow? Double yes. A couple? I'm sorry, but no. But writing them, nevertheless, has been an incredible experience- and who knows, maybe I might even write a one-shot out of them _some_day. *wink, wink*  
**

**So, as stated before, this is a prompt request. I will tell the full request (of the prompt) in the author's note below. Please send more, if you guys have any**!

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their rightful owner(s**)

* * *

_my legs are getting weak chasing after you_

**prompt by** XloveXconquersXallX

.

It sounds so cliche sometimes, it feels _wrong_.

Falling in love with your best friend, to her, is overrated. You have movies about them, songs about them, maybe even poem about them and stuff written about the whole 'fall-in-love-with-your-best-friend' over internet she'd never know; and it's _seriously_ overrated. But, for her to say that aloud would be funny, because the exact situation she despises of is the same situation she finds herself stuck in.

And there's nothing wrong with falling in love with your best friend either- if you push aside the 'famous' problem which is 'it could ruin a perfectly friendship you two have'- because the reasons you fall in love with them is completely reasonable and simple. Because you've known them more than life itself, probably more than you know yourself, and it's kind of sweet, and sad- because _yes_, this feelings do get in the way of your friendship when all you're trying hard not to do is to fall into the whispers of your heart and give in to the power of your feelings.

She doesn't know _how_ she falls in love with Blake; she just knows she does. She tries to think from where it truly began every time she lay her head against the soft pillow every night- could it be when he solely defended her in front of those snotty girls when they were twelve? Or when he told her he didn't care if she played basketball and not trying to woo boys like most girls when they were thirteen? Or could it be the way he smiled at her the first time as a starting sign of friendship when they were ten years old? She has no idea how- she just wakes up to know she couldn't wait to see Blake's smiles, and his grins, and his ringing laughter and everything about him...

And she's in love with Blake.

(and that's okay- because she falls for him for all the good reasons)

But perhaps, that's her problem after all.

.

She remembers that fateful day like the back of her hand. Walking down the hallways of McKinley has always been frightening, and sometimes suffocating. Maybe it's the people, or the environment itself; but either way, she couldn't find herself to breathe properly every time she's in a large crowd, especially if most of the crowds are from those who are stinky, smelly and snotty brats.

She lifts her chin up to make sure she's heading the right way, towards her locker. But instead of seeing her locker alone, he's there, in his all-red-and-new letterman jacket and all those awful thoughts vanish from her mind right away. She quickens her pace to him- because being with him would _always make it all much better_.

"Hey, what's up?" she says casually and she can see the way his eyes brighten when it lands on her.

He straighten his pose, and watches over as she opens her locker. "Hey," he says back under his breaths, and she catches the way his face is changing color; pink at first and slowly, red creeping up his cheeks and ears. She narrows his eyes in suspicious, all at the same time, in the inside, she's trying to push away the butterflies which seem to be fluttering insanely than ever.

"Is there something wrong?" Her voice is slow, but she sees he's smiling, so she smiles too.

He looks up at her, and from that single expression alone, she could tell he's very excited about something. And something deep inside of her jump - _maybe he's trying to tell me he likes me_! - and she waits. He bursts out laughing, but then bites his lips as to stop that action. His face gets redder and the curiosity swimming inside of her bubbling over. She's about to demand him to say whatever it is he's planning on saying when he blurts out the most unexpected thing she could have hear-

"I'm Jessica Hamilton's boyfriend!"

.

Jessica Hamilton is the hottest person in the school with her long brown hair and fancy cheerios uniform, eyes as pierce as a hawk's would and lips as kissable as any other.

.

She feels as though she has been cut into pieces, being chop there and here like a piece of meat. Torn, pain and bleeding all over- and yet, she smiles back at him as a respond, the biggest smile she could muster, and congratulate him (_like a best friend would_). "What? Jessica? Are you serious? That's so cool!" she laughs when he lets out a relief sigh, replying the smile like she knows he would.

"Yeah. She just, well, _we_ decided to be official and, I just want you to hear this personally from me. I'm so glad you're not mad, or whatever." He tells her, his left hand resting on her right shoulder. At this point, she's looking down, pretending to read some random book; chest tightens and she couldn't possibly face him right at this moment, and he continues. "It just shows how a cool best friend you are, Nell."

_Of course I am_. She looks up, tilts her head to one side and smiles again (she smiles a lot at this point, it actually hurts) "Of course I am."

"Cool," he breathes, the redness smearing his face lessens. "So, I'm planning to get on a date with her this evening- do you think it'll be okay for me to cancel our plan? Just this evening, Nell. I really want to show her that I can be 'the' boyfriend she deserves to have."

"Sure."

But it's all just a big, fat, dirty lie.

.

"You know I'm not blind right?"

She whirls around at the sudden voice, and narrows her eyes at the figure when her vision focuses on it. Standing there, with hair as perfect as ever, flowing down her back straightly and eyes that might as well kill her on the spot, is no other than Jessica Parker. They've met a few times when she came over to give '_Blake-baby_' a kiss on the lips, or to drag him to a full 10 minutes make-out session or whatever it is she does with him when Blake is hanging around by her, but they've never speak to one another personally. And she doesn't even think Jessica Hamilton even cares of her presence.

She pulls the strap of her bag tighter in her palms, the intensity of air she feels on the moment cloak her breathing, but she tries to not let it show. She refuses to bow down to this perfect witch, no matter how many times or how hard the witch's attempt would have be. "What do you mean?"

"I know you have feelings for my Blake, dear. I'm _not_ blind." The venomous drips within each words she says, and she comes closer.

She could feel her walls of defense is crumbling slowly, and the threatening force the brown-head cheerleader is giving out are starting to overshadow her, towering over her. Nellie has always been self-cautious of herself, careful in everything she does and avoid the patches that will take her to the wrong path; she's always been good. Maybe quirky and a bit rougher when she's in the basketball court, but a good girl all and all. But under the dangerous eyes that could only meant harm to her, she feels the burning of biting back and do something she's not supposed to do is overtaking her whole body.

With the same amount of venomous, she spits back the only sentence she could think of. "Obviously you aren't."

"What?" The brown-head cheerio furrow her brows, and hunches lower, as if to listen better.

But she doesn't say anything back, just rolls her eyes in respond and sighs loudly. Jessica scoffs and shakes her head, eyeing her with her hawk-like eyes. "Oh, you have no idea who you're up against."

"Apparently I don't," she finally says, words that comes out toneless. "But I know one thing; this thing you have with _your_ Blake? Yeah, not going to last forever."

"How dare you-," the brown-head exclaims aloud, obviously surprised.

"Listen," Nellie begins again, in a tone that demands for the cheerio to _shut up for once_. "I'm not a genius, I'm not even _that_ smart, I'm not you, I'm not any psychic, or mind reader, or a fortune teller- But I'm not dumb. Well, at least not dumb enough to think what you and Blake have right now is going to last. You are aware that this is just high school, right? Things in high school, especially relationships- even more when he's just a freshman, can be 98% guaranteed to end. It's just a matter of sooner, or later. And when you're just an ex to him, keeping your distance and thinking of one thousand and one ways to forget or get revenge on Blake, I'll be _right next_ to him and there's nothing you can do about it."

And what do you know? Jessica Hamilton actually shuts up.

.

Five months, six days, thirteen hours, thirty-seven minutes and approximately forty-four seconds later, they break up.

Which isn't a surprised- it's just a matter of _tick-tock_. And when Jessica Hamilton is over at her lockers, with her cheerios, talking about how 'lame' Blake is- she's standing right next to the guy, offering him to play basketball after school. Which isn't exactly bad.

.

But it all, kind of, get boring eventually.

.

Two months after Jessica Hamilton, we have Sarah Parklin. She's a perky blond with smiles that could matches Blake's, but has a clear allergic towards Nellie. It's funny, actually. Sarah Parklin really tried to be intimidated, but it _just wouldn't work_. So, she laughs it off and plays her guitar by her backyard and just counting the minutes of when the days of Sarah&Blake would end.

But then again, until that day comes, she'd have to playing her guitar _alone_, trying to capture Blake's laughter by her side and pretend he's not off somewhere, doing _onlyGodknowswhat_ with Sarah-freakin'-Parklin.

(_So while she knows she's winning, she's still injured- and it hurts, oh it hurts so badly_.)

.

Sophomore year, months after Sarah Parklin, things are going steady for a while. She have him, and he has her. It all seems like old times, when it just the two of them. He's listening to her (because he always listen, and she always talk), and he'd always tell her how she truly funny she is, and inspirational and all the things good that made her heart thumps a thousand times faster. And then, he adds, "I wish everyone could see how amazing you are, Nell." He says with a sigh, shaking his head and she could see it in his eyes how he's imagining it.

"But then," he pauses, a frown etching on his lips. His eyes meet with hers, "You wouldn't be mine."

(_and she's always been his somehow_)

But when he sees the same expression he's wearing the first time he told her about Jessica Hamilton - the red face, the twinkling eyes, and the grins that couldn't be swept away - her heart breaks. And just like the hallways of McKinley, or the thoughts of crowds, she couldn't breathe. He looks at her, and she realizes he's _so much older_ now, and breathes those shattering words that cuts her like sharp razors, "Guess who has a date tonight?"

(_because even though she's his, he's never hers_)

.

Michael is the new kid in town that everyone seems to adore.

Which isn't a problem, if the kid doesn't have a crush on her. It's actually a strange situation- 'cause _nobody_ has a crush on her. And yeah, it should bother her or something, but it doesn't. As a matter of fact, it never concerns her that much anyway. All that she knows, she's around with her three older (gross) brothers and Blake all her lives, and things are just okay as it is. But then Michael - the adorable dork who knows math and swirls around with the crowd- comes to sit next to her one day as her lab partner (thanks to the teacher, of course) and that's the beginning of a whole new story...

.

While she could read Blake like a JK Rowling's book, Michael could read her like some sort of an open dictionary he loves so much.

It's a quiet day when they are doing the experiment, her eyes re-reading back all of the procedures while his are focus on their experiment at hands- one wrong moves could lead to unwanted destruction- and she hasn't see it coming (But maybe she does, she just isn't sure) when Michael whispers her name so softly, calling her. She lifts her chin up, brain wrecking and alarming with questions of _is there something wrong_? "Do you wanna go out this Friday?"

She has been taken aback, to say the least.

She opens her mouth to say something, but the words stuck remains in her throat. All of the procedures she memorized not less than a second ago gone, as if wiped away by a duster or something. She gapes at him, her mind completely shuts down. "Uh, um...," she stutters, trying to find the right things to say, "W-what are you talking about?"

"Friday," Michael whispers, the adorable smiles break from his face freely. "A date, with me? What do you think?"

"You're asking me out like you're asking me what day it is," she answers back lamely, throwing herself to focus back on the book and decides to brush or/and avoid this question entirely.

He chuckles, and you could _not_ believe how only that has make her heart races a million times over. He looks over to her, eyes all glinting with excitement and easiness and friendliness, and Nellie fights a war from falling to that such gaze. Her nails sink into her skins, scrapping her fair palm- the pain of 'Blake' keeps beating inside of her, and she fights two wars at one time. "Okay," Michael's voice is gentle, has always been and she hates the fact her body relaxes at the sound of it. "Nellie, would you like to go out with me this Friday night?"

He looks so sincere, and she knows _he is_- but... "I c-can't."

Michael's face fell, and her chest tightens. (She feels like a vase who couldn't stop falling for the gravity, and hurting the one who really wants to take care of her) But then, Michael's face changes, and he nods his head. Guilt pulling and blaming her, but she tries to swallow it down. "It's Blake, isn't it?"

She stops fiddling with the pages of the experiment books and everything actually stops. "But s'okay," he shrugs easily, looking back over their projects.

Suddenly, he comes swiftly behind her, leans in and whispers, "I'm not giving up on you."

.

Michael is a sweet guy, she admits.

He has this goofy aura that'll just make everyone around him smiles and heart thumps with easiness when they're around him. And he's handsome -that's a part of him that's hard to not acknowledge about- and smart, and funny and fun to hang out with. Sure, he's awkward here and there, and he gets frustrated and he complains- but he's _human_.

And somehow, Nellie finds that exact fact attracts her the most among the others about him / Because with Blake, it's like, she's looking _up_ at him instead of looking at him at the same level. And that isn't exactly a problem, because Blake is someone everyone should look up to- he has the perfect, charming, kind personality. Good-looking, an awesome athlete, great intelligence, tall, rigid and _perfect_.

(but maybe, she's just tired of looking _up_ all the time)

.

And it breaks her heart - besides bringing her uncomfortable, unfamiliar waves of relief- knowing Michael might be the only thing she needs.

.

When Blake asks his question, she thinks she might heard him wrong.

"Did Michael, the new kid, asked you out?"

And try as she might to ignore, she couldn't miss the way his eyes cross and his jaw tightens. His voice comes out strange, and keeps echoing in her mind, like some sort of song that got stuck. He seems uncertain, anxious, nervous- he keeps tapping the tip of his right fingers with the left ones is an obvious signs to confirm it all. He waits for her to answer, and that same eyes are the ones who take her back to reality.

She stands there, locker open and mouth slightly gapes open. _Did he just asked me that question_? Curiosity bubbles up inside of her, and with each seconds passes by, the tapping of his fingers grow rapid. The anxiety that went unnoticed a minute ago gone, and is surfacing to show themselves across his face. "I-I..," she stutters at first, because she always does- especially when she's extremely shock.

"Yeah," she settles with that, because _what's the use of lying_? and his features harden. He might try to hide it, but she knows him too well now. Her heart kinds of dance, but her mind's too hazy to think of that. "Why?"

"I just," this time, he stutters- and for the first time in a long time, his wall of 'perfectness' crumbles slightly- and stands straighter, changing his posture to look more confident than he really is. "I just- Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, and he sounds hurt. "We're best friends, Nell."

Her insides cringe at those words, but she tries not to let it show (like it's anything new). She closes her door, quite harshly than she ever intends to, and shrugs her shoulders easily. "I didn't think it matters," is all she responds with.

"Of course it matter!" that comes out angrier, and honestly, that's the first time she's ever heard him like that. She whirls around to face him, surprised by that sudden outburst from him, and he must have realizes his mistake when he stops, pursing his lips. He shakes his head, take a step towards her and lowers her voice to the level she's familiar with. "Of course it matters, Nell," he says in a gentle voice, "Don't you think I have the right to know, uh, this information from your own lips instead of Ali's?"

Ali is the girl who adores gossips and one who he went out to date twice (both failed, and yes ladies, he's single).

She frowns; maybe because of the fact he still hangs out with Ali, and looks at him skeptically. "I didn't say yes, anyway. That's why I didn't bother to tell you." She answers back dryly, continuing her steps to walk. She can hear his footsteps following behind, and the uneasiness she feels slowly disappears. She might have heard he sighed (in relief) after she said what she said, but she's not sure. Probably that's her mind playing trick on her- it tends to do that a lot recently.

"Great," Blake exclaims from behind, now catching up to walk besides her. "The new kid's not for you, anyway."

She pauses in her step, and it take a moment for Blake to realizes she stops- and when he does, he stops too. He turns slowly, eyebrows drawing to each other in a confusion manner, and drawls out, "What's wrong, Nell?"

She doesn't know what happen, but she knows the next thing she says is, "What did you say?"

"What are you-," Blake takes a step towards her, and she puts her hand out, stopping him from going any further. She doesn't know why, but something deep inside of her screams to _slap_ him across the face. She doesn't- she's not the one to use aggressive ways to settle things. She's smart enough to know what's wrong and right, and he _is_ her best friend...

"How do you know Michael's 'not for me', Blake?" she demands, the anger in her voice comes out clear for him to hear. His face changes again, and she can feel the 'drama' she tries so hard to avoid her whole life is catching up to enter her life. The athlete before her opens his mouth, but closes it, and then opens it again, only to close it again. "You don't. That's just it. You can't go around and _just say that_, when you don't know what's right for me-,"

"But-," he begins to argue, but she's fast enough to cut him off.

"-_listen_. If you're such a genius, then tell me something; who _is_ the right one for me?" her sentences come out sharp, intending to hurt him somehow.

Blake stammers, eyes searching for an answer that isn't there. He opens his mouth and in an instant, his face flushed. Nellie's watches him slowly as he ducks his head lower, the redness making its' appearance on the tip of his ears. Just a few steps ahead of them, stand someone who's observing them like a new documentary. Nellie lifts her head, her eyes meeting with Michael's instantly. Through his eyes, she knows he (somehow) just understands her and her throat tightens.

She takes a step back, and sighs. "You don't know anything, Blake- don't pretend like you do."

And she sets her feet into motion, directly towards the math genius. Michael only stands there, his hands still holding his open-locker, and doesn't move a muscle. It's almost as if he's waiting for her to come to him, even though it'll take forever- but _he waits_. And it tear her secretly, _painfully _(and she doesn't know why) but the only sounds she could focus on is her boots against the floor and his soft eyes awaiting her presence.

She grabs his hand and pushes his locker shut. He doesn't argue -although she kind of wants him to- and just let her be.

She looks at him, hands still holding his, and says it bluntly and simple. "Let's get out of here."

And just like before, he doesn't argue.

.

("If you're such a genius, then tell me something; who _is_ the right one for me?" her eyes gazes into his sharply and he feels like lightning just hit him straight through his heart.

_I am_.

And he beats himself up a thousand times if he could when he realizes she had already walked away from him, but all he does is stand there. For the first time in his lifetime, he's actually _useless_.)

.

She's in a crappy CDs and DVDs' shop where Michael is taking her, but she has no idea where she's at really. But he holds her hand and told her to wait; so she does. Probably because her tongue has run out of words to say, or too dry, or just tired- she doesn't know. All she does know is, what's done is done. She's cut and torn in the inside, just by the thought of Blake and Michael.

(Both ruins her- while the famous athlete keeps cutting her with his full ignorance, the adorable nerd keeps stabbing her with his full attention.)

She turns her head to one side, muscles lazy and mind as blank as ever. Suddenly her eyes stare upon a familiar CD and cartoon she used to watch with her nephews and nieces. She kinds of smile, but not quite.

Michael comes, and the sound of confusion in his voice stretches over his statement. "You're smiling?" he asks, innocently and genuinely.

She gives him a strained smile in return, pointing him towards the CD that had caught her attention. She purses his lips as his eyes gaze over to the CD, and watch as more confusion rise into his features. He tilts his head, raising one eyebrow towards her, "Peter Pan?"

"Peter Pan," she confirms, voice lower.

And suddenly, like he could sense something else is swimming with her reply, he eyed her strangely. "What about it?"

Blankly, she says, "Nothing."

(_lies, lies, lies- there's always something_).

.

Three days- it takes her three days, with no Blake around, and just Michael, that they've finally kissed.

It is sweet to say the least. She's just laughing while sitting on the hood of his car and they're eating McDonalds - he takes french fries, while she settles with McFlurry Oreo- and it is a bright sunny day and then, everything just seems to stop and the next thing they know, they're looking at each other in the eyes and leaning in and...

(It's supposed to be with Blake, but nothing goes as plan- and like her papa always says "that's life, my angel")

Michael's kiss is gentle, and soft, and a bit hard later, but then soft again. She tastes the fries on his lips and smiles into the kiss- also wonders if he tastes the Oreo sweetness in her lips while they're kissing- and the tingly feeling she used to have for only Blake, comes to bother her at the moment. It feels wrong, yet right and _ultimately wonderful_. It's just a whole new kind of level of intensity she isn't regret to discover.

(But she doesn't tell the cut-like-razor feeling scrapping her stomach alongside with the crazy butterflies/ it's too hurt to tell, she decides.)

.

Like _best friends_ (oh yes, that term still send painful electrical feeling throughout her body and keep on beating her like a drum) they've make up, and they're supposed to laugh about it all, and put it all behind. He's just supposed to be standing next to her locker, his eyes on the page of the books in his hands because he's going to face a pop quiz the next period and she's supposed to be suggesting places to hang out after school and he's supposed to answer her, but instead, bluntly as she could manage, she spats the most unexpected thing he could have ever listens to-

"I'm dating Michael."

(and all hell break loose, my poor dear child)

.

The argument they have afterward got viral hits on the school's web, in the gossip column. It really is not nice.

(They might as well started World War III because if words could kill a person, they're dead about a hundred times over).

.

It been two (deadly) weeks since they last talk to each other, and the sky fills with stars weighs her even more than it should.

Her boyfriend- the sweet, caring, smart boyfriend she would forever treasure her whole life- looks over to her with eyes stained with sympathy and sadness he couldn't describe and feels the same burden she feels. He brushes his thumb over her cheek, caressing her slowly only '_cause he can_, and he wants to- and blurts out, "Until when are you going to keep this up?"

She scoffs, slightly glaring at the innocent boyfriend of hers. "Until he realizes he's wrong."

"_He is_," he agrees calmly.

"No kidding," she snaps, the venom in her tone drips without she notices.

He holds her arm out and takes a step back from her- and only then, she realizes her mistake- so she grabs his hand and force him to stay where he is; close and within her arm's reach (because if she loses him, who else does she got?). She let her head fall onto his chest -it's not as firm as Blake's, but it's enough- and feels the tears on the corner of her eyes. Her grip tightens on his shirt, and he begins to wrap his arms around the petite her. "I've always love Tinker Bell," she admits, her tone is shaking as a sign of her vulnerability shining through.

He stays quiet even though he doesn't understand anything of her statement, and lets her continue as he gently rocks her from back and forth. "Tinker Bell has always been in love with Peter Pan, even if he loves Wendy. Peter cries for Wendy, lives for Wendy, laughs and smiles for Wendy- and yet, Tinker Bell stays by his side. And I know it pains Tinker, but she _never_ stops loving Peter Pan..."

She pauses, the sobbing muffles in her throat.

"And I always wonder," she says, after a while. "Is it worth it?"

.

Even Michael, the most smartest of them all, couldn't answer that.

.

(But what if Tinker Bell finds someone else besides Peter Pan?)

But, she reminds herself, that doesn't mean Tinker would easily forget Peter, right?

.

Years later, she finds herself burning the card she never thought she'd witness- and the flames fascinates her as it rises into the air, burning and dancing and tangling with one another in red-orange-like color- and it feels sick&sad&sinful to watch its ashes dirty the floor, but as much as her heart loves 'the love she'd always love', the pain is too unbearable for her to bear. The dark, mournful, haunting printing fonts of the card ghost over her mind and she rubs her temple to lessen the pain (but she knows it's a worthless effort).

Suddenly, at the back of her jean's pocket, her phone buzzes. She slips her phone into her hand and turns it on, only to realizes Michael is texting; _whattaya want 4dinner_? and she smiles, because all the pain that just seared through her like wild fire is gone, only by the thought of 'the love she truly loves'. The pain extinguishes as it makes contact with the puddle on the dirty street floor. With a sigh, and a last glance towards the card, she texts back to her boyfriend of her answer, and walks away.

And when her co-worker, Abraham, asks her _what exactly_ is she doing at that alley, she shrugs her shoulder and says, "Nothing." (_but we all know, there must be something, right_?)

.

The little pieces of the card remains untouched by the fire as it met with the puddle. And it proudly states, in bold handwriting;

**YOU ARE INVITED TO**

**BLAKE & SHANNA'S WEDDING**

.

And her story ain't a cliche one, or a fairytale-like one... it's just a broken one.

With that, ladies&gentlemen, I'm proud to say that this is...

**The End**.

* * *

**The original prompt. And I know it's a little sidetracked from it's original plot- for that, I apologize:**

**1.) Blake and Nellie are best friends, but when Nellie gets a boyfriend, Blake realizes that he has feelings for her and tried to persuade her into breaking up with the other guy. Nellie gets upset that he's trying to take away her happiness and stops talking to him. Blake then tries to scare her boyfriend into leaving her, and when she finds out, she feels betrayed. She and the guy stay together, and years later, she gets a letter from Blake, asking her and her guy to attend his wedding.**

**And I know it's a bit rushed- and if I could fix/add anything, I'd do it later. So, yeah. I'm just _extremely_ sleepy right now. Oh, and guys- I just opened up a tumblr only for my Blellie hearts, and I am proud to say that I will be posting some of my stories there, if not here in FanFic. I already posted one, it's called Breaking Masks and if you want to check it out, please do so. My account name is **_just-bbmitchell_


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